Kisses
by Skylarcat
Summary: The five times Oscar kisses Angie and the one time he doesn't. She kisses him.


**Title:** Kisses  
 **Author:** Skylarcat  
 **Classification:** Vennlicious. Yup, that is happening.  
 **Rating:** Sappy  
 **Feedback:** Love it. Give it.  
 **Summary:** The five times Oscar kisses Angie and the one time he doesn't. She kisses him.  
 **Note:** Flynn and Vega are characters that do not belong to me. Yes, I have used them without permission. So hire me to write for the show and that way I can have permission. Sounds like a win-win to me!

 **I.**

It occurred on a lazy summer night, the first time he kissed her. The air was hot and sticky, clinging to their skin like rich molasses. She remembered how the fabric of their shirts pressed and bunched against the wet swell of their heated bodies, and how she would casually switch from fanning herself with her hands to plucking the thick material away from her saturated flesh. He watched her with a quiet intensely that sprung from fuel and hinged with desire. She felt his eyes burning deep into her like a match being ignited, and instantly her insides erupted into a million burning flames that scorched her with every beat of her racing heart. She shifted her attention to the sky, afraid to make any eye contact, knowing he was always able to see right through her, reading her every move.

Despite the night that surrounded them, the sky was still very much clear. Her eyes gazed in the direction of the stars, where they speckled across the dark backdrop in an array of muted yellows. From time to time, they twinkled, and she watched vigilantly unable to muster the courage to look at him, but even so, she felt the precise moment he took a step forward, closing in the space that separated them.

The anticipation mounted and suspended around them from every direction. Her stomach felt as if she had swallowed a jar of butterflies, thrashing and flailing inside itself like a pair of wings. With each second he hesitated, he only managed to make her more nervous. You always remember your first: your first kiss, your first time, your first with anything, but this was something entirely different for her. She didn't know how to explain it other than that she felt as though she had waited her entire life for this kiss; as if she had been born with the sole purpose of finding him and feeling his lips pressed against her own.

Nothing that she had ever imagined compared to the actual moment when it finally did arrive. There was no perfect combination of words to describe it. The kiss wasn't overly grandeur, but far from inadequate. It was soft, almost understated and a bit sloppy from the taste of desperation as he pulled her closer in an attempt to deepen it. No, it wasn't the kind of kiss you saw in the movies, where you almost expect fireworks to start going off overhead. It was the kind of kiss that resulted from being overthought and waiting to occur for way too long.

It was raw and messy with lips that trembled from not knowing if there would be a second opportunity at getting it right. Lips that held on for dear life, afraid of parting even for oxygen because separating meant the end of something that neither was ready for.

She closed her eyes and took a breath, enjoying the sensation of his mouth upon hers. And although the world didn't end, it might as well have, because out of all the kisses that she ever had in her life, this by far was her favorite.

 **11.**

The second kiss was a bit more precise, now on more familiar ground, having already mapped out all the lines and curves of her mouth. It wasn't as long as the first one, almost a tease really, as he gnawed playfully at her bottom lip. And this one came as a surprise, for she never saw it coming.

They sat in a booth, at the corner diner, located down the road from the precinct. It was in walking distance and the two were common patrons, having visited the establishment numerous times over the years. It was one of her favorite places to eat, as much for the tacky décor as for the greasy, fattening food. She would insist, occasionally even beg, and eventually he would relent and let her have her way. They would sit and eat and discuss their latest case. At some point, she would finish her food and move on to eat whatever remained of his. He never protested, only smirked joyfully as he watched her.

At the moment, she munched on a plate of fries as she tossed out theories to him. He pondered over them carefully, debunking where he needed to and filling in the gaps until they began to stretch out the perfect motive together. It was in complete harmony, the way they mused the unconventional. A gift really, that they had perfected over the years of being partners. He knew her inside and out. And in the same way, she knew him better than he knew himself.

She was in mid-sentence when a drop of ranch dressing made its way down her chin. And without missing a beat, he reached over, wiping it off with his thumb. His movement stilled, his hand resting against her skin as they locked eyes. The irony was not lost on her. She had made another mess, which was common practice for her, and once again he was there to help her clean it up.

She laughed slightly, realizing how ridiculous she must look and reached over for a couple of napkins, when he caught her by surprise, leaning forward and tilting her chin to face him. She only had a moment to be confused, for in the next his lips found hers. It was over before she knew it. Just a brief, gentle kiss, but for her, she never felt more loved.

 **111.**

The third kiss wasn't even on the lips.

It wasn't uncommon for them to work late into the early hours, cases kept them busy. And on one such occurrence, they were the last remaining two in the precinct. She sat across from him, the table covered with open vanilla files and papers scattered about. She nibbled on the skin on the back of her thumb, lost in her own world.

He reached over pulling her hand away from her mouth, making some nonchalant comment about how she needed to break the habit. She glared at him and he chuckled in response. She was just about to pull her hand away when he lifted it to his lips. It wasn't overly profound, but it was romantic in its simplicity.

 **IV.**

The next kiss occurred one evening after a leisurely scroll. They had walked to a nearby ice-cream parlor, both deciding on cones and as they headed back to her place, they stopped at a souvenir shop.

Her eyes automatically conversed to where a collection of coffee mugs sat along the windowsill. He of course, knew her fondness of such mugs, being the recipient of such gifts over the years. The most recent one still sat on his desk: bright yellow with green lettering that read: 'If you think I'm hot, you should see my partner.'

He was behind her in a flash, whispering in her ear to not even think about it and right as she was about to protest, he kissed her on the cheek and reached passed her, picking up a mug and walking over to the counter to purchase it.

Later, when she was alone, she took it out to read it. She smiled to herself and placed it on her coffee table. 'Keep Calm and Date Your Best Friend.'

 **V.**

Somewhere between kiss number five and three hundred and thirty seven, she started to accept that he was something that she deserved.

It was on a fall night where the kisses were no longer enough and she finally took his hand and guided him to her bedroom. And before that moment, there had been lots of kisses. There were morning kisses, goodnight kisses, just because kisses. There were short and sweet kisses and kisses that seemed to last for days.

There were kisses that robbed all the oxygen from the room and kisses that left her lips raw and burning. And just when she thought she had experienced every kiss there was, he somehow would managed to surprise her.

But until then, after both awakening the next morning, where he gently kissed her on the forehead, there had never been an after love-making kiss, and now that she had experienced it, she couldn't wait for many more.

 **And Then…**

She kissed him. She might have jumped the gun a bit, but the excitement was just too much for her to handle and before the priest could even finish the line, 'You may kiss the bride', she rushed forward pressing her lips against his.

It only took him a moment to recover his balance, careful to not step on her dress, his hands found her waist, pulling her closer and finally dipping her to once more take control.

She didn't mind that he liked to lead when it came to kissing because she led in almost every other aspect of their lives, so she allowed him this. Besides, he always did have the ability to take her breath away.


End file.
